Comfort
by HollowayOrchid
Summary: In a different universe, things may have turned out differently for Liz. She has a failed (or maybe multiple failed) relationships under her belt, and a job she is completely unhappy with. She leaves her home in search of comfort food and runs into something a bit different. A first meeting with perhaps a new friend.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth looked at her face in her bathroom mirror. She didn't see much because she wasn't feeling much at this point—She had managed to shed a few final tears earlier that day. Now, puffy eyed and her dark hair snarled into a rat's nest, she saw only a shell of a woman. If she was being honest, she had been becoming more and more hollow for a while now, but having James leave her was more than she could handle.

It was no fairytale love story, but it was _her_ love story and it had been comfortable. Nice. Apparently comfortable and nice wasn't enough for James. She stared at her strained and unusually haggard face while she remembered what happened just two days prior in their very living room.

James had been waiting for her when she got home from work. She had been exhausted, and she was going to suggest they go pick up some take out from their favorite Thai restaurant, a comforting (there's that word again) thought. She knew something was wrong as soon as she walked inside—James was seated in his cheap desk chair. He looked apprehensive, but he also had a look of determination on his face. She was instantly wary. Something she had always been, circumspect of others, but never of James.

"We need to talk," he said, with no nervousness in his voice at all. Her heart dropped when he uttered it. No person in a relationship ever wants to hear those four little words that almost always mean: we're over. "What's wrong?" she demanded, her voice was already thick with the tears that were on their way. From there, he simply told her that he was no longer in love with her. She felt a wave of agony at that point. He told her that she had become a miserable person, her whole life was work, getting take out and whining about work. Okay, okay. She couldn't argue with that, but did their conversation have to end and begin with "I'm leaving you."? Couldn't she work on these things he didn't like about her? No, of course she couldn't. While she was so consumed in her misery about her work-life, he had met someone else that wasn't.

He walked out of their apartment with a suitcase and told her he would arrange to get the rest of his things soon and that was it. She was alone, for the first time in four years she was wholly alone. She felt like she should be angry, but more than anything she felt powerless. She really was discontented with her job. She had settled in as a Parking Enforcement Officer. That's right, she was a _Meter Maid_. Her big dreams of becoming an FBI agent hadn't come true yet. _Yet_ , she kept telling herself. However, she had started to become complacent in her career and apparently also in her relationship.

Elizabeth had taken some much-needed vacation time after he left, calling into work the next day. Her boss wasn't exactly happy with her, but she had the time and she was going to take it, so she could work through those five stages of grief on her own. It had been a few days and she was currently in the depression stage. With depression came the need for comfort and her need for comfort was always soothed with her favorite foods. Now, staring at her gaunt face in the mirror, she knew what she had to do. It was time to leave the house for the first time in days so she could find her relief through food.

She couldn't be bothered with makeup, makeup probably wouldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes anyway, but she figured she probably should try to tame her wild hair. It had become unruly from her restless nights in bed and lack of showers. She took her brush and quickly tried to detangle it without much success—it was going to take much needed deep conditioning to get all the tangles out but for now it had to do. It's not like she was trying to impress, she just didn't want to be completely unpresentable.

With a heavy sigh she pulled on some jeans, pulled a slouchy knit sweatshirt over her head and threw her purse over her shoulder. She decided to walk, her favorite Thai restaurant was just ten minutes away and she needed the fresh air. Being outside instantly perked her up, if just a miniscule amount but she could tell instantly. She had been cooped up inside too long. Her heart still throbbed however, her and James would often take this short journey together hand in hand to share shrimp Pad Thai and Thai Iced Teas. She shook her head to herself, she needn't think about that now. Doing so would just make her heart ache more and start the whole grief process over again.

After a long ten minutes of thoughts, always looping back to James, she made it; thankful to be enveloped in the warm restaurant, her stomach growling at the scent of curries and all the wonderful spices that accompany Thai food. She ordered her favorite Shrimp Pad Thai and crispy tofu with a Thai Iced Tea to go. "No tea for James?" asked her usual waitress, a small Thai woman with a thick accent. A lump formed in her throat, she tried not to sound too pained "Not tonight." Liz said shakily, unable to come up with any kind of explanation that wouldn't make her sound pathetic. The waitress just nodded with a knowing expression, lips pursed, as if she could tell exactly what happened.

Liz paid for her food and slipped her credit card in her back pocket. Suddenly she felt spent. Her short journey there had already taken a toll on her. She just wanted to go home, tuck into her food and binge-watch something on Netflix. Her takeout bag in hand, she left the warm restaurant into the almost frigid evening air. A slight wind caressed her cheeks causing her to shiver against the cold and in turn she walked quickly, trying to warm up. About five blocks back toward her home she heard someone call her name. She stopped and quickly evaluated whether she could, or should, hide away from whomever called her name. She didn't want to face anyone she knew right now.

Before she could decide, he called again, in a questioning tone. "Elizabeth Keen?" he called, closer now. She didn't recognize this voice, deep and vociferous, and she turned around. It was an older man, probably two decades older than Elizabeth. He was looking at her, one eyebrow raised inquisitively, and his head cocked slightly to one side. He was holding something out to her. "I believe your credit card fell out of your pocket," he said "I wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands." He handed it to her with a slight smirk on his face. "Oh wow," she said feeling a bit silly "Thanks a lot, you really saved me a bit of hassle."

Elizabeth turned back around and swiftly started back to her house. She was thankful for the kind stranger, but she just wanted to get home. To her surprise, the man caught up to her with no trouble and kept her pace. "Is that from the little Thai place down the street? I absolutely _adore_ Thai food. What do you have?" He inquired. Elizabeth didn't look at him, she was a little irritated that she wasn't being left alone but if a little small talk made a lonely man happy then she supposed she could oblige for a few minutes. It would take her mind off herself at least. "Shrimp Pad Thai. It's what I always get, I'm a little scared to venture off into unknown Thai food." He chuckled at that.

"Ah, Pad Thai," he said and sighed. "I remember exploring the bustling Warorot Evening Market in Chiang Mai _years_ ago. It had to be _at least_ twenty years ago. I had Pad Thai, Nam Prik Ong absolutely _anything_ I could get my hands on. The food was absolutely marvelous. Then some locals wanted to drink with me—we guzzled Mekhong for hours. I had _such_ fun that I wasn't even angry when I woke up and realized they had robbed me blind after I passed out." he let out a boisterous laugh. Liz slowed a little bit and took a real look at him for the first time.

It seemed to Liz that he was dressed formally, not the type of man to just stop to tell a raggedy woman his traveling tales. He was wearing a light brown vest and a burgundy tie over a long-sleeved shirt with a straw fedora on his head. She was honestly a little speechless. She wasn't used to people coming up to talk to her, unless it was to tell her off about giving them a parking ticket. They were just coming up to her apartment and she tried to figure out a way to politely say goodbye. "Uh, this is me." She said lamely "Listen, thanks for walking with me and everything…"

He turned to her then and looked at her quite seriously considering how light-hearted and silly he was a few moments ago. He put his hand lightly on her shoulder, she could feel the heat of his hand under her sweater—a startling contrast to the bitterly cold air. "Lizzy," he murmured " _Never_ be afraid to venture into out into the unknown. _Never._ Even if it really is just trying a new dish at a Thai restaurant." His voice was low, a bit husky. His pupils were dilated, and his blonde eyelashes shimmered from the golden lit porch light. Her heart gave a slight squeeze and she felt a few butterflies flying around in her empty stomach. He smiled at her dumbstruck expression and as intense as he was for those few moments, his expression quickly turned cheerful and easy. He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again, it was a pleasure walking with you." And as quickly as he had appeared, he was walking away. It took her a moment to find her voice, but she managed to call out to him "You never told me your name!" she heard him chuckle. "Raymond." He called back without turning around. "Next time, order the Khao Soi. It's _delightful._ " He added. Then, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Since James had left, Liz would wake up feeling normal at first but the realization that she was alone would come flooding back into her memory. This morning was different. She woke, and instead of a flood of despair, her memory of the night before came tumbling into her mind. A chance meeting with a kind stranger who had gentle words for her. Had her credit card not fallen out of her pocket, she never would have had the experience and in turn, she would have had another awful morning. Instead, Liz was going to try to enjoy her day.

Although she tried to relish in one of her last days off, her thoughts always went back to Raymond. He intrigued her. His mood from light-hearted to serious was so abrupt it took her by surprise. She fondly remembered his hand resting on her shoulder, so warm that she could feel it through her sweater. His hand was not wanting or wandering the way that most men tended to touch (even in the most innocuous of circumstances) but caring—it was pure and innocent way of letting her know that he really _saw_ her.

 _Ugh_ , she thought to herself, _I'm thinking too far into this_. Liz tried to push her thoughts away, she was being irrational. A stranger is a stranger. Nothing more, nothing less. Raymond just happened to be a kind stranger which were few and far between and she took his inch of kindness and strung it into something that she desperately wanted (needed, really). A friend, a comfort, someone she could trust. _Trust?_ She thought to herself again _how could I possibly know this person is trustworthy? Get ahold of yourself._ Again, she tried to vanish these intrusive thoughts from her mind.

And yet, as Liz sipped her morning coffee, she found herself at her computer desk on Facebook searching for anyone in the area named "Raymond" just hoping she would come across _him._ She thought that if she saw him on Facebook that he would turn into an average joe and she wouldn't be so curious about him. Outside of her sudden, almost obsessive idealization, Raymond was most likely a husband and father with a boring office job that liked to tell tall tales about his travels. As she was searching however, Liz had a feeling she wouldn't find him on Facebook (or any social media for that matter). He didn't seem like the type, which frustrated her.

She tried to put her focus on other things. She had chores before she went back to work in a few days ( _ugh, work_ ). Liz busied herself by changing her bed sheets for the first time since James left—that in itself felt like a huge accomplishment. She cleaned her kitchen, getting rid of the take-out containers and crumbs of Thai food from the night before. She read some of a true crime book she had been neglecting and paid some bills she had been avoiding. After all of this, it was still only the early afternoon.

No sooner did she plop down on her couch to veg out, the doorbell rang. Her heart accelerated. Was James coming to beg her forgiveness? She almost decided not to answer the door, thinking it wouldn't be worth it and hoping that whomever it was would just go away. She finally plucked up the courage to walk over and peek out through her peephole. No one was there. She slowly opened the door and noticed on the ground a small pastry box with maroon ribbon wrapped around it, forming a beautifully crafted bow.

Liz gingerly picked up the small box and brought it into her apartment to her kitchen counter. Infinitely curious but equally suspicious, she carefully took one end of the maroon ribbon in her fingertips and undid the elegant bow in one swift movement. Underneath that bow was a small envelope with quick but graceful cursive "Lizzy". Her heart skipped a beat (or two) as she opened it. Inside was a single index card sized piece of paper.

The Back Room, 8 O'Clock

See you then,

R

P.S. Here is something to quell your broken heart—remind me to tell you about the first time I tried Baklava.

Sure enough, when Liz opened the pastry box, there was the most decadent piece of Baklava that she had ever seen. Layers, nuts and dripping with honey. Her mouth would have been watering if she weren't suddenly nauseous with confusion, fear, intrigue and most of all excitement. She had to go through her closet to find something to wear…To meet Raymond.


End file.
